Plain Retribution. Dana R. Lynn

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СКАЧАТЬ He took out his cell phone and snapped pictures of the engine. “Could this be random?”

      His gut told him no. This kind of attention to detail took forethought and planning.

      Jackson was already shaking his head, frowning.

      “I don’t think so.”

      “I don’t, either.” Miles shoved his hands in his pockets, watching Rebecca as she sat on the cement curb. She looked tuckered out. No wonder. “How does this play for you? I think the perp has been watching her for some time. Maybe a few days, maybe longer. It’s possible he picked her because she was deaf. Thought she’d be an easy mark. He knows where she leaves her car, and what hours she works. Chances are he waited here for her.”

      “But if April hadn’t left early, he would have had to contend with two women.”

      Jackson had a point. He went to Rebecca and posed the question. A minute later he was back.

      “Not necessarily. Rebecca said April usually parked in the parking garage across the street. All he would have needed to do was stay down until she was out of sight.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

      The quiet was broken with a ridiculously raucous ringtone coming from his watch. Jackson’s brows rose in amusement. Miles brought up his wrist and fumbled with the buttons, mumbling an apology. He’d left his earpiece in the car, so he moved slightly away from Jackson. It was the chief.

      “Olsen here.”

      “Report, Officer Olsen,” the chief of police ordered.

      “Sir, the perp is gone and has left no traces we could find. He disabled the car, though. It needs to be towed. Jackson and I think he’s been watching Rebecca for a while.”

      “Rebecca?” There wasn’t any censure in the chief’s tone, just mild curiosity.

      “Sorry, sir. Miss Miller. I know her. Anyhow, we don’t yet know why she was targeted.”

      “Ahh.” He could picture the chief nodding as he leaned back in his swivel chair. “Even if the perp was watching her, it might have still been a random attack. Maybe he noticed she drove alone and parked in the alley and thought she looked like an easy mark.”

      “Sir, I’m going to drive Miss Miller home, and then come in and file paperwork.”

      “Very well. Does she have someone she could stay with?”

      Miles cast a concerned glance toward her. Her arms were crossed on the top of her knees, and her head was down.

      “Miles?”

      Huh? Oh, right.

      “Yes. She has a roommate. I had her text the woman and let her know what was going on.”

      “Good. I’m glad she’ll have someone there for her,” the chief responded in a smooth drawl.

      Miles thought for a second, deciding his next move. “I also think we should try to get the visual artist in as soon as she’s available to see if she can remember any details that might get some hits on the database. Oh, and see if the interpreter is available.”

      “If not, you could interpret if she waives her right to a certified interpreter.”

      Miles frowned. “Yes, sir. Although I think it would be better to have someone certified.”

      People didn’t always understand that managing direct communication in sign language and interpreting at a professional level were two totally different skills. Just because someone could speak the language didn’t mean they could expertly translate it into English.

      “I agree. But interpreters are very hard to come by.”

      “Yes, sir. I will try to get all that scheduled ASAP.”

      “Sounds like a good plan.” A pause. “Miles, I’m going to put you in charge of this case.”

      “Sir?” His heart thumped in his chest.

      “You’ve been doing good work since you came back. I want to find this perp. And I think you’ve proven you can handle the responsibility. Plus, you can communicate directly with our victim, so that makes you the natural candidate.”

      “Thank you. I will do my best.”

      He tapped the face of the watch, disconnecting the call, joy bursting through his body. His first case as the lead. The chief trusted him again—he could finally put his past mistakes behind him. This had been a long time coming.

      Then he looked at Rebecca, and some of the joy faded. As proud as he was to be lead in the case, he hated the idea that his victory came with the price of her horrible attack.

      She was so vulnerable. Just like his stepsister, Sylvie, had been. Suppose this wasn’t a one-time attack? Suppose the perp was a stalker, fixated on Rebecca? He would have his work cut out for him, finding the perp before he struck again. Oh, he’d been in on tough investigations before. Chief Paul Kennedy had been slowly giving him more and more responsibility as he had shown he could be relied on.

      For some reason, though, this responsibility seemed heavier. Because it was quite likely that the beautiful young woman sitting a few feet away was still in danger.

       TWO

      The trip to Rebecca’s apartment was a quiet one. She’d given him the address, and off they went. Since he was familiar with the area, he didn’t need to take the time to plug the address into his GPS.

      The trip was silent, but not uncomfortable. Rebecca had calmed down. Once they were ensconced in his vehicle and moving away from the scene, the tension in her shoulders and face seemed to have eased. She wasn’t happy, but neither was she panicked. Which was good.

      As for Miles, he appreciated the silence. It gave him a chance to process the events of the evening and get a hold of his own emotions. He couldn’t help but worry about how she was handling the pressure, though. He turned to look at her—her expression was smooth, unruffled. Could she really be that calm? He would have expected more panic, or at least signs of discomfort. He’d seen the bruises on her neck—they had to be hurting.

      Get a grip, Olsen. She’s not your sister. She’s strong. And now she’s your case. Keep it professional.

      He was so involved in his own thoughts, he almost missed the entrance to her apartment complex. Good thing Windy Hill Apartments had a large sign out by the road. Grimacing, he shifted on his blinker and spun the wheel at the last second, swerving hard into the driveway. In his periphery, he saw Rebecca put her hand on the dashboard to brace herself.

      Bet that impressed her. Not.

      What an awful parking lot to come into at night. It had one light, right in front of the entrance. But the rest was dark, the corners in the lot merging into the shadows and trees. Anyone could hide out in those shadows, and she wouldn’t be aware of it until it was too late. Rebecca wouldn’t be able to hear any telltale sounds that might warn her of impending danger.

      Great. СКАЧАТЬ